


Only in the Bubbles

by HotForVantas



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Body Dysphoria, Body Modification, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:31:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotForVantas/pseuds/HotForVantas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terezi and Cronus meet in the dream bubbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only in the Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first legitimate fic, written for my new amazing friend and headcanon Cronus. Based loosely on a spontaneous LARP we fell into at a con. Comments and criticism appreciated!

You sigh. He needs you again, your poor, pathetic, greaser douche of a moirail. 

\--

A lot had changed since you reached the dream bubbles. You had figured out some time before you died that you were not part of the Alpha timeline, so dying had been no great shock. One minute you were bleeding on the ground and the next, watching someone who looked an awful lot like Eridan sobbing on a couch in the middle of an obvious highblood hive.

“Who are you?” 

He looked up, lines of purple running down his –pink?- streaked face.

“I uh..should be askin you the same thing, shouldn’t I? You ain’t Latula, but you look a lot like her, prettier too.” 

He winks. It isn’t unattractive, despite the state of his face.

Yep, definitely an Ampora. You hope this one is more tolerable than the last.

“Terezi Pyrope”

“Cronus Ampora”

“Are you going to tell me why you’re crying? Looks like I’m going to be here awhile.” 

You sniff and look around at the plush purple surroundings.

“It’s kinda a long story.”

You flop onto the couch next to him.

“I have time.”

\--

You learned a lot about him, his friends, Beforus, his session, and the dream bubbles. He told you about Mituna, his ex-moirail. Everything since the accident that stole his friend. More than once you held him while he sobbed, after Mituna would zip by obliviously on his skateboard or just randomly during a feelings jam.

He tells you about Kurloz, the one who sent him to the bubbles. He hates Kurloz, for what he did in life and what he now does in death, as Mituna’s current moirail. You never thought you would be grateful for Gamzee. Whenever Kurloz is nearby you have to hold your seething royal-blooded mess back. It’s worst when Mituna is toddling after him.

He tells you about his romance problems. Mituna was the only quadrant he’d ever filled, and he was starting to believe he would never fill his quadrants again, causing him to become more and more desperate for affection. He occasionally hits on you, but unlike the others, you welcome the attention Karkat was never willing to give you, though you always knew he wanted to.

But most of all, he tells you about humans. A lot of it you already knew, but so much of it you didn’t. He explained his state when you first met. He had been cosplaying as a human and Kurloz found him, mocked him until he broke down and ran. It took everything you had not to go after the clown yourself. He had to hold you down to keep you with him. 

You had never heard of someone wanting to be a part of a different species, but Cronus does. He feels so wrong as a troll it makes your bloodpusher ache. You can’t remember having pitied anyone so much when you were alive. 

When he asked to be your moirail, you were the one crying.

You stay in his hive so that you can always be there when he’s hurting. You even put your ‘coon in his respite block. He often climbs into yours with you, sobbing purple tears into the sopor.

\--

The worst thing happened when you weren’t there.

You returned from visiting your friends to find him in a puddle of blood, still breathing, but in so much pain. He looked wrong. At first you couldn’t tell why, your nose traveling from his legs up. You found the source of the blood. His horns were gone, rough bloody patches in their place. Judging by the state of his hands, he had ripped them off himself, somehow taking them clean off.

You screamed and quickly moved him out of the mess. You ripped off strips of your shirt to stop the bleeding. He smiled weakly up at you, and choked out a bad joke about you finally showing him some skin.

He didn’t speak again until you had gotten him cleaned up and laying on the couch. His species dysphoria had pushed him until he decided to do away with his horns, tugging at them until they were no longer attached.

All you can do is whisper soothing words as you play with his hair. He loves it when you play with his hair, so you do so until he falls asleep, head in your lap. You let him stay there until you can’t keep your eyes open, then practically carry him into the respite block and into the coon you’ve started sharing every night.

\--

He seems happier, somehow, without his horns. You have to get used to seeing him without them, but he is still as attractive as ever. Every day his smile is a little wider. You even help him put the makeup on sometimes, but he usually goes without it because it’s a pain in the ass. The days he does use it, he practically glows.

The happier he is, the more you pity him. What was once a soft pale pink has blazed into a burning red. You aren’t sure of his feelings though, so you resign yourself to continue being the best moirail you can, while secretly flushed out of your mind.

\--

He surprises you one day.

You wake up as usual, to a sleeping Cronus pressed up against you, his face in the crook of your neck. You lay there contentedly, holding him close. He begins to stir, looking up at you with a sleep-groggy smile. He presses his lips to your cheek, causing a teal flush to creep over your face.

“Mornin’ ‘Rez”

You stutter out a reply, and he chuckles.

“Been wantin’ to do that for a while now, ya know.”

You are speechless, so instead of answering him you climb out of the recuperacoon and hurry out of the block to wash away the slime. When you return, both of you free of sopor, you find him curled up in his pile of pillows. You climb in next to him, uncertain what to say.

“Should I a not done that?”

You turn your face up towards him, blushing once more, and shake your head. He meets your gaze, realization dawning. He puts a hand on the side of your face and caresses your cheek before moving in close. When your lips meet, you feel like your bloodpusher is going to explode.

You lay in the pile for what feels like both forever and only seconds, kissing and cuddling. You can’t get enough of him. His kisses are addictive, electric. Everywhere he touches you tingles in ways you’ve never experienced before.

You want to keep him forever. And thanks to the bubbles, you can.


End file.
